A Deep Roller In A Shallow Sky
by MaskedMarionette
Summary: Hannibal Lecter has waited nineteen years before he made his return to the United States for one last glimpse of his one true obsession. But Clarice is not the headstrong FBI agent he once knew. Her daughter on the other hand, is another story...
1. Chapter 1

Dr. Hannibal Lecter stood on his front porch and took a deep breath of the crisp, fall Rhode Island air. He'd arrived there in Charlestown earlier that morning and after a brief sleep he stepped outside to view his neighborhood. It was quiet and well kept; a slight mist had settled about the town making the other homes look sleepy.

"Oh Clarice…" Lecter smiled, "how you've conformed."

Dr. Lecter retired to the comforts of his new home for some breakfast and tea before setting out on the small town.

Anne checked her wrist watch; ten minutes until her lunch break was over. The half an hour she usually got for lunch was as usual, over too quickly. She tossed the rest of her pasta salad and shoved the empty tupper wear back in her locker and stuffed a piece of mint gum in her mouth. She washed her hands and checked her modest make-up in the mirror, blew a bubble and took to the stairs.

She flipped her dark hair and put on her best smile for the customers as she made her way to the front of the supermarket she worked at.

"Uh, excuse me Miss." A voice called out to her touching her elbow gently.

"Yes, Sir." Anne said sweetly.

It all the manners she had not to let her face fall and the sight of his stump that was resting on her forearm. Painted on smile in place, the shock passed and she could think again.

"Can I help you?"

"Uh, yes, I'm having some trouble getting the items in my basket to stay in my basket." The older gentleman said kindly motioning to his basket on the other arm. A box of water crackers, a block of brie and a bottle of wine were hap-hazardly strewn in the basket among the other groceries.

"Oh sure," Anne smiled re-arranging the items to fit, "you know we have shopping carts up front and we also offer personal shoppers for those who have a problem getting around."

"No, no, no that's quite alright Miss… uh," the gentleman said staring at her name tag, "A. Banana?"

"Oh!" Anne giggled. "I'm Anne. Banana is my nickname. Anne Banana."

"Oh I see." The gentleman nodded. "Well, thank you very much, young lady."

"It was no problem." Anne assured him. "If you need further assistance any one of our courtesy clerks would be more than happy to help and when you're ready to check out you can see me at—"

_"Register six, please, Anne!"_ the front-end manager's voice called over the intercom.

"Right." Anne sighed. "You can find me at register six. Have a nice day."

Anne gave the gentleman one last smile before swiftly cutting through the isles to get back to her register before the manager could call for her again.

"Banana!" Irene the manager called as Anne signed back on to register six. "Why were you late? I never have to call you."

"I was helping a customer, Irene." Anna said making sure Irene didn't see her rolling her eyes. "Can I help the next person in line?"

"Okay, but next time come back to the front first. This is where you're supposed to be, Anne" Irene said in what Anne and the other front-end employees thought was a mock polite tone.

Anne heard Keiera behind her snickering as Irene went back to her post at the self-check out and as soon as Keiera and Anne were out of customers, Anne turned and threw a pack of gum at her best friend.

"She is such a pain." Anne giggled and she walked to the front of her lane to wait for her next customer.

"I know," Keiera giggled following Anne's lead, "I hate getting in trouble for doing my job."

They stood in line waiting patiently and about once every fifteen minutes they would get one customer a piece and it was back to the end of the of their lane to wait for the next. This is why Anne hated working Sundays; she spent more time standing around doing nothing than actually helping anyone.

"But it beats going to church with your folks, doesn't it?" Keiera asked Anne. "Seemingly endless droning of a gospel you don't really believe in burrowing its way into your brain. Oh, and then that loving awkward dinner with your folks and grandparents."

"You're right," Anne sighed, smiling, "I'd rather be bored than brainwashed then subsequently crushed to death by tension."

"And lucky us," Keiera smiled, "we not only get to be bored with each other but we also have customers at your eleven o'clock."

"Ready to check out?" Anne and Keiera smiled. To Anne's surprise the older gentleman from before, made an almost deliberate beeline for her getting to her lane before the other customer could make up their mind as to which register to go to.

"Well, hello again, Sir." Anne smiled as she began to ring up and bag his groceries.

"Hello, Anne." He smiled looking at the screen where his total was being calculated before him.

"Hey, Banana!" Keiera called. "What's the code for cucumber?"

"Forty, sixty-two." Anne replied not looking.

"Gracias."

"Uh, excuse me, Anne." The gentleman said clearing his throat. "The brie is supposed to two-dollars off."

"I'm sorry, Sir." Anne apologized. "I'll check this week's ad." She took out the ad and scanned it for the troublesome brie. She frowned slightly when she did not see brie on sale.

"I'm sorry but it's muenster, feta and gouda that's on sale this week not the brie." She said closing the ad and folding it.

"Well, I saw that but the sign back there does not say which cheese is on sale it just says 'Specialty Cheeses On Sale for Two Dollars Less.'" The gentleman stated firmly.

"I see," Anne nodded bagging the last item, "well to make up for our error, if you still want it, I'll give it to you for the sale price."

"Well, it's not worth getting you into trouble so—"

"Oh, it's no trouble at all." Anne shrugged punching keys. "This is a mistake that happens a tad too often, so I do this all the time. No trouble at all. That'll be twenty-three dollars and forty-five cents; how will you be paying?"

"Charge." The gentleman replied pulling out a gold credit card.

Anne punched another key and gave the credit card a hard swipe, "Will you be requiring assistance in the parking lot, Mr. Gentile?"

"No, I believe I can manage, thank you." Mr. Gentile replied as Anne gave him his copy of the receipt.

"Don't say, I didn't offer." Anne warned playfully as she handed Mr. Gentile his bags.

"Oh, I won't." he chuckled.

"Alright, you have a nice day." Anne smiled.

As he exited the store Mr. Gentile found himself startled by young Anne's resemblance to an old friend. She had the same pointed nose and narrow jaw. The same thin frame and she held a look in her eye that he felt he would carry with him into his sleep.

Could she be?

He turned back to get one last look at her and saw a woman speaking with her in what looked like a hurried tone. He could see Anne roll her eyes and give the woman a playful smirk... and they looked so alike.

_"Clarice?"_ he asked himself.

The woman began walking in his direction and he turned back away and continued slowly out letting the woman pass him on the way. He got no other look at her and she rushed to her car where a man was waiting for her.

Clarice?


	2. Chapter 2

Dr. Lecter paced his front parlor after his second night of sleeplessness; he couldn't get her face out of her head. Those lucent cobalt eyes served as the perfect screen for the lucid mind that lurked inside. Her lips curled into a smile that could lift even the darkest of moods. She was the free spirit that Clarice would have been if she was not so hardened he envisioned.

_"You don't even know if she is Clarice's daughter."_ He told himself. _"Looks are not enough to go on."_

However true this fact was, a part of him yearned for it to be so. Wary of the groove he was walking into his hard wood floor; Lecter took to his desk and pulled out a sheet of drawing paper. He reached for a pencil and a small manual sharpener with which to sharpen it. Once it was sharpened to his satisfaction, Lecter just let his hand do the walking as he gazed out the window at the deserted early morning street.

She just had to be… Perhaps he would do some research when he was done with his sketch.

Saito was sick and tired of being the errand boy for _Chateau_, he felt as though he was far past the newbie hoops the rest of the guys made him jump through. He had proved himself time and time again; going to get out of stock items to return to a surplus of the same item and preparing difficult dishes with a limited amount of resources were just the tip of the iceberg. He was going to make head chef even if it killed him.

On the bright side, he got to go to the supermarket where that cute check out girl worked. So she was a little young; age ain't nothing but a number, right?

"Hello, Mr. Morimoto."

"Hello, Anna Banana." Saito replied giving Anne a warm grin. "And don't call me 'Mr. Morimoto,' call me 'Saito.'"

"Okay," Anne giggled, "I suppose 'Saito' would have a blue stripe in his hair rather than a 'Mr. Morimoto' would."

Saito flipped back his hair away from his face and gave Anne his most flirtatious stare as Anne started to ring up his items.

"Twenty cans of whip cream?" Anne asked incredulously. "Are you sure this is for work?" she joked.

"Not if you're going to leave this cash register behind and come with me. I think I can keep one for us." Saito whispered with a devious glimmer in his eye.

Anne blushed and loudly scraped one of the whip cream cans across the scanner before dropping it into a bag. Saito stifled a chuckled in his throat and looked away to hide his own rosy cheeks.

"Will that be all?" Anne asked still pink in the face.

Saito turned back and saw that Anne determinedly met his stare although he could see that it took all she had not to laugh or look away. Her jaw tightened from the struggle and she held her posture erect as though it gave her the strength not to buckle. The rouge of Anne's cheek made her complexion look fuller and the smirk of her plump lips emblazoned the fire in those big blue eyes.

"How old are you, Anne?"

"Not old enough to date you." Anne replied. "That'll be forty, seventy-five."

Saito knew better than to press the issue at this time; he paid the tab with the restaurant's credit card and bid Anne a lovely day. He declined the bagger's offer of a carryout and did nothing to deter the smile that settled about his mouth. That smile that only faltered when he entered the Chateau kitchen.

"Hey, Jet Li!" Charlie, the sue chef, chuckled. "What took you so long? Half an hour for butter, milk and whipped cream?"

"I know what took so long." Rusty, the matire'd laughed. "Jet Li has a thing for that jail bait check out girl with the pretty eyes."

"She has a name." Saito said through gritted teeth as he put the groceries away.

"Ooh-hoo-hoo!" Rusty grinned. "I'd love to get a piece of that. Young and limber; She used to be a gymnast, you know."

"You'd better watch there, Rusty." Bill, the head chef warned. "Her dad's an FBI agent and he'd have your head…. Both of them."

"Ay-oh!" Tim, a waiter, came running in. "We got a delivery order for that old guy who always orders the Chianti."

"Who's up for delivery this round?" Charlie asked looking at the order.

"Bill." Saito answered, looking at the rotation chart.

"Jet Li, you're up." Charlie smiled.

Saito swore loudly and threw down the dish towel he was using to clean the baking dish he was preparing for his roast and stalked out of the kitchen's back door. He could hear the roar of the other men's laughter and it infuriated him. Bill followed Saito outside to see what was the matter.

"Don't let them see you sweat, kid." He said lighting a cigarette.

"How am I supposed to further myself as a chef if I can't even cook anything more than once a week?" Saito growled.

"How did I?" Bill asked calmly.

Saito sighed and leaned against the opposing wall and rubbed his face; Bill must have been put through the same torturous game that he was in now.

"Like I said," Bill exhaled before taking a long drag of his cigarette, "don't let them see you sweat. And prove yourself every chance you get."

Bill finished his cigarette and left Saito to his thoughts before Rusty called him to take the order out. Saito just secured the package and left without a word but the jeering of the other men ringing loud in his ears.

On this side of Thanksgiving, Charlestown was only the blink of an eye from ten inches of snow and clouds were swiftly approaching. Perhaps a blink of an eye was too slow. Grey, dense clouds crowded over the town gently drifting into other in some misty dance. The leaves as well as the birds had all but disappeared from the trees, children still played happily along the sidewalks before their parents called them inside. Shopkeepers alike were starting to close earlier so as to not go home in too much darkness.

Saito felt his anger deflate the longer his tires rolled along asphalt; suburban life was like the pills most of its patrons took; calm and numbing. As Saito reached his destination he felt as though he had been subdued. Non-pulsed, he unloaded the box and knocked on the door.

"It's open." A voice called from inside. Saito rolled his eyes and sighed, he nudged the door open and awaited further instruction.

"If you could just put it there on the dining room table and mind the drawings."

Saito walked front the front parlor into the dining room, he sat the box on the nearest chair and pushed the drawings into a neat pile on the far corner. The top picture caught his attention; the charcoal sketch was unremarkable except for the eyes of the young woman, they were the bluest blue he had ever seen. Come to think of it; the rest of the picture was quite familiar too.

"Oh, it's Anne." Saito smiled. He looked up to find the owner of the home standing in the doorway. "I, um, Anne." He laughed nervously pointing at the picture. "Right?"

The old man chuckled kindly, "Yes, that's her. She's crossed my mind once or twice."

"I can relate." Saito smirked. "Here's your order." He placed the box on the table and took another long glance at the picture.

"You can keep it, if you like. I have another." The old man said stepping into the light of the room. And upon seeing the old man clearly Saito had a flashback of when he was a small boy on a flight back home to Japan. Nineteen years had passed but the man didn't look a day older than when he'd met him.

"I know you!" Saito said excitedly. "I met you when I was like, three!"

"No, no, no," the old man refused, "you must have me mistaken."

"No! I met you on a flight!" Saito insisted. "Don't you remember? My mom was sleeping and you gave me a piece of something because I couldn't eat the food they were serving."

"My lad, I have been on very many flights in my life." The old man smiled modestly.

"But I _know_ it was you!" Saito insisted further. "You're the reason I became a chef!"

Dr. Lecter was flattered. He did remember a small boy on flight a few years ago to Asia that he gave a piece of his own special food to. Who's to say that this young man was not him? And to be called an inspiration… well that was new.


	3. Chapter 3

Saito was driving back from _Chateau_, glad to be going to the supermarket of his own accord; he would be able to see Anne for as long as he wanted whether it got him kicked out of the store or not. Indeed he was going over his shopping list in his head when he saw her walking across the plaza from the florist. Sadly, she wasn't wearing her work pants which meant that she'd finally gotten a Thursday off and that there was no Anne to bother. Still, not about to let opportunity pass him he made a sharp left turn into the plaza and came to a screeching halt beside her. Anne jumped and dropped the book she had been carrying; she clutched her chest and took dramatically deep breaths while giving Saito a dark glare.

"I didn't mean to frighten you." He called from his car. Anne snatched up her book and wiped away the snow, choosing not to respond. She gave him a smirk and started to walk.

Saito let his foot off of the brake and rolled along to keep up with Anne's pace, "Oh c'mon, you know I didn't."

"So what do you want?" Anne asked smiling. She was glad to see him.

"To see you." Saito answered plainly.

"Mission accomplished, wouldn't you say?" Anne smirked, stepping over a lump of snow.

"You could say that." He smiled back. "Do you want a ride? It's warmer in here."

"Oh if I had a nickel for every time I heard that…" Anne giggled. "Does that work on the women where you're from?"

"Yes, actually."

Anne shook her head and laughed before slipping on a patch of ice and skidding into a display outside of the bakery. And after she righted herself she shot Saito a look of triumph. She took another step but this time she fell backwards into a pile of snow. Saito laughed loudly as he got out of his car to pull Anne up. Anne herself was torn between being amused, embarrassed and having a frozen bottom. She let Saito pick her up and carry her over to his car where she got inside and turned his heat to the maximum setting. Still chuckling, Saito pulled into a parking spot close to the entrance of the supermarket but just far enough away so that they wouldn't be recognized.

"It's warmer in the backseat." He said with a confident grin.

"Did you forget the part where, I'm a minor?" Anne giggled through chattering teeth.

"No," Saito shook his head, "I was just distracted by your beautiful smile."

Anne scoffed through blushing cheeks and sunk lower in her seat.

"Speaking of age," Saito grinned again, tucking strands of Anne's hair behind her ear, "don't you have a birthday coming up? I know I missed it last year but I'll be ready this time."

"Yup." Anne nodded, brightening. "My grandparents are throwing me a debutant ball in the ballroom at Town Hall. It's this whole big to-do; I had to buy a ball gown and everything."

"Well, is there an invite for little ol' me to attend this big to-do?" Saito asked jokingly.

"Oh man!" Anne moaned. "I keep forgetting to put it in my car! It's in a few weeks! I don't know where you're going to get a tux this short on notice."

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Saito exclaimed. "I'm just glad I get to go. Get me that invite and I'll get me a tux."

"Sorry," Anne sighed, "I've just been so stressed with term papers and work and my grandparents staying with us and hounding me about RSVPs…"

She was quite adorable when she was flushed. Her cheeks were rouged making the light dusting of freckles on the tip of her nose stand out.

"Don't sweat the small stuff." Saito smiled. "Everything will work out."

"Thanks." Anne smiled, she looked at her watch. "Hey, I've gotta go. I'm supposed to meet Keiera at my place for a study session and my mom will flip if I'm not home in twenty."

"No problem. Need a ride?"

"Nah." Anne grinned tugging at the door's handle. "I drove." She exited Saito's car and started to make her way back towards the entrance. He didn't take his eyes off of her until her little mustang had cleared the parking lot.

***

Clarice was only half listening to Linda go on about the importance of labeling for the fourth time when she finally heard Anne's car roar into the driveway.

"So what do you think I should do?" Linda asked.

"Tell Ewan to put the goddamned Tupperware away correctly the first time and there would be no need to label everything." Clarice said off-handedly.

"Clarice, maybe if you tell him he'll listen 'cause he don't hear me when I tell him things." Linda laughed. "I've had to get Keiera to tell him on more than one occasion."

"Hey, Mom." Anne called from the foyer. "Hey, Mama Linda."

"Hey, Anne." Linda called back.

"How long does it take for you to go drop off your grandmother's order and pick up your pay check?" Clarice asked firmly.

"I was abducted by the KGB." Anne replied crossly as she passed her mother in the sitting room.

"Leave the girl alone." Linda hissed as Clarice got up to follow Anne through the dining room and into the kitchen.

"The florist shop got blown away and I was swept off to the magical land of Oz where I befriended three strangers who helped me fight a wicked witch and unmask a phony wizard." Anne continued to tease.

"You're not funny." Clarice declared.

"Perhaps not," Anne nodded facing her mother, "but you _are_ paranoid. I'm a big girl now, and I think I can go to the slightly crowded plaza where I work and everyone knows me without coming home and being hounded for being two minutes off schedule."

"You know how I worry." Clarice sighed.

"You're giving yourself grey hairs." Anne said in a sing song voice motioning to her mother's newly dyed hair.

Anne snatched two bottles of water from the fridge, kissed her mother lightly in the cheek and left Clarice standing alone to ponder what had kept her. She could hear Keiera giving Anne a hard time about being late.

"She's right you know." Linda said softly from the doorway.

"Oh Linda, not you too." Clarice groaned. She turned away to look at her spot less sink with its new water purifier and disposal.

"She's about to turn eighteen." Linda cooed. "What are you and Henry going to do when she goes off to college? Move in across the street?"

"We talked about that actually." Clarice snorted.

Clarice turned back to face her best, and really only, friend. Linda's chocolate complexion glowed in the early setting sun. She crossed her arms and gave Clarice a look.

"I know!" Clarice cracked. "I've got to let go! She's going off to some school in September and I know I can't go with her even if she asked me to."

"And she won't ask you to. You know that, right?" Linda smirked.

"Oh my goodness, Linda I think she might just go to that school in California just to spite me." Clarice said with a look of disdain.

"I wouldn't put it past her." Linda chuckled. She moved to put a comforting hand on Clarice's shoulder but Clarice pulled away.

What had she become?

"I know what you're thinking." Linda said calmly. "You're thinking about that day again, aren't you?"

It was true. That day had seeped into her mind once more. It filled her with a deep regret and a sour shame. But it wasn't her fault; she was just acting the way that any mother would have acted.

"It wasn't your fault. I would have done the same thing had I been there." Linda cooed hugging Clarice around her shoulders.

"Yeah, I know." Clarice sniffled bitterly. "It doesn't change things though."

Linda chose a more silent response and rubbed Clarice's back gently. As quickly as she could Clarice regained her composure and with Linda's help, started dinner. Henry would be home soon.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay for dinner, Linda?" Clarice asked as Linda prepared to leave.

"Oh, Ewan calls himself making his specialty for us tonight so I'm gonna have to decline, Clarice." Linda said remorsefully. "But save us some anyway; the last time Ewan cooked, not even the dog would eat it."

Clarice laughed, "Okay. Just call when you're ready and I'll have Anne or Henry bring some next door."

Linda nodded to Clarice before calling out to the ceiling, "Keiera! C'mon sweetie your father made dinner!"

"I'm in no hurry to get food poisoning!" Keiera's voice called back faintly.

"Girl, get down here before I drag you down!" Linda warned.

"Can't I just stay and have dinner with Mom Clarice?" Keiera whined. "At least I'll know then that what I'm being fed is meant for people!"

"If I gotta suffer, then you gotta suffer! Now get down here; I don't want to hear another word about it!"

Less than a minute later Keiera, followed closely by Anne, descended the stairs wearing a pout for the ages.

"Oh save it." Linda snapped. "You can stay over another night. You know how much this means to your father."

"I know." Keiera mumbled; she turned to Anne and Clarice with a sad smile, "Wish me luck?"

Anne gave Keiera a tight hug before crossing herself quickly, "I'll pray for you."

Keiera and Anne giggled and hugged once more before Linda ushered her daughter out of the house before more complaining could crop up.

"Later, Clarice; Good night, Anne."

Anne and Clarice wore similar looks of mild amusement as they both waved Linda good-bye. Anne broke the silence first with a sigh and then with a quick word about finishing her last paragraph before coming back down to set the table.

Anne went to rush by her mother, but Clarice reflexively grabbed her securely by the arm and pulled her into a gentle hug.

"I love you." Clarice said in a barely audible whispered.

Anne sighed the little animosity she felt toward her mother out, "I love you, too, Mom."


	4. Chapter 4

Henry snapped his cell phone close and let it fall from his hands to his mildly cluttered desk. His mother was driving him out of his mind about Anne's birthday. It was something just shy of five weeks away now and Henry wasn't sure he could make it. Between fighting with Anne about school choices and being scolded by his parents for his lack in involvement and not to mention arguing with Clarice about all of the above, Henry was going to start pulling his hair out any second now.

His cell phone vibrated briefly before the sound of Anne's sweet voice singing "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" came floating from the speaker. Henry turned his phone over to see the screen; a new text message from Anne.

_AnneBanana:  
Grammy wants u dnnr. ON TIME.  
Grampy says he wants a LazE boy  
4 Xmas. Mom dd ur job 4 u, w/e that  
means .Nd chck ur email plz!  
3 ABnana_

"Now, what?" Henry wondered aloud. He lifted the lid on his work laptop and logged brought up the internet explorer and after a brief digression of reading about the success of the President's stimulus bill, he logged into his email.

"Not this shit again." Henry swore. Anne had forwarded to his inbox yet another brochure to Juilliard, her school of choice. Henry didn't care how much she begged or how much she screamed, Anne would be going to Juilliard over his cold, rotten, dead body. He deleted the email without so much as a second thought and to add insult to injury he countered Anne's Juilliard brochure with one to Cambridge University.

_"I should send her a MIT brochure to make her really hate me."_ Henry mused with a sneer. Assuming that, that was all that Anne wanted he logged off his computer and prepared to leave if he was going to make it home somewhere close to being on time for dinner. He snatched his briefcase up from the floor and grabbed his coat from the closet. His secretary had already gone for the day so Henry had made it all the way down to the parking lot before running into anyone.

"Hey, buddy!"

Henry turned his head slightly to see Rick from Accounting waving to him from his car.

"Heading home?" Rick asked in slight disbelief.

"Yeah," Henry nodded, signaling to one of the parking staff, "my mum wants me home for dinner."

"So?"

"I'm out of excuses." Henry called back with a smile.

"Ah," Rick nodded, "I hate it when that happens. Have a good evening, Henry."

Henry gave Rick a short wave and just as the valet dropped off his car, Rick pulled alongside Henry's car.

"Is Anne's party still on?" Rick asked lightly. Henry could see that this was more than a care-free musing by the intense glare hiding in Rick's eye.

"If it's not, that's new to me, mate." Henry said forcing a small smile.

"Oh, I was just asking because Carl still hasn't gotten an invitation. He told me they were still really close and he was wondering if the party was still on." Rick said pointedly.

Henry felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle; Rick's bad side was not where he wanted to be.

"Anne is just so loaded up right now, you know." Henry chuckled anxiously tossing his briefcase onto the back seat. "She's been studying for her Cambridge College entrance exams on top of all her AP study work and working four nights down at the food market. She hasn't sent out half of them and the RSVP date is in two weeks. I'll tell her to get on it at dinner."

"Oh yeah," Rick nodded with a bitter smile, "I forgot she might be going to school in England. Tell her to at least call Carl and let him know what's what."

"I'll say something tonight." Henry said brightly. "G'night, Rick."

Rick smiled tightly and gave Henry and modest wave as he pulled away and left the parking garage. Henry knew that Rick just couldn't stand hearing about how other people's kids were smarter than or had better things than his own. If Henry had not mentioned Anne's academic advancement, he was sure that Rick would have followed him home. Henry got into his car, started the ignition and drove as fast as he could before he could get stopped by anyone else.

Five-fifteen.

Dinner started fifteen minutes ago and Henry just knew he was going to hear it. He pulled quietly into the drive and checked his reflection in the front windows before entering his home.

"Henry?" his mother's light voice floated over the sounds of chairs scraping and dishes clanking. One of the pros of having his parents over from Ipswich was that there was someone in the house who sounded like Henry. The American accent was so coarse that it was refreshing to hear someone else speak English the way it was meant to be spoken.

"Dad's home!" Anne yelled as she ran down the stairs. She walked over and gave her father and gentle kiss upon her cheek. "How was work, Popsicle?" she asked.

"I'm the head of the Military Stealth Development Department, Anne." Henry smiled, removing his coat.

"Was it really that dull, Popsicle?" Anne inquired, raising an eyebrow.

"Twice that, Banana Pie." Henry smiled pinching Anne's cheek.

Henry draped an arm around Anne's shoulder and let her lead him to the dining room where his mother and father were setting the table as Clarice brought out the food.

"Welcome home, dear." Clarice said clearly as to catch the elders' attention.

"Oh, good! Henry's home." His mother said happily. "And he brought Anne with him."

"It's about time you got here, boy!" his father said looking around.

"Let me help you with that, Grampy." Anne said taking some silverware from her grandfather and setting them in their correct places on the table.

Henry kissed his mother and father on the cheek respectively before taking his place at the far end of the table. Anne helped her mother finish bringing out the food and drink and then helped her grandfather ease down in his chair before taking her own. Henry asked God to bless the food and they began their meal without so much as a sharp word. Well, that's how dinner began anyway.

"I hate, Carl!" Anne said brimming with disdain. "He hasn't gotten an invite yet, because he's not going to get one!"

"Anne, please!" Henry groaned. "If you don't invite Carl, Rick is going to give me hell."

"Sounds like a personal problem, Popsicle." Anne shrugged. "Maybe you should file a complaint with Human Resources."

"Don't say 'hate,' Anne." Grammy frowned. "It's such a strong word."

"Sorry, Grammy."

"It's Anne's party, Henry." Grampy grunted through his mashed potatoes. "She should invite who she wants. If she doesn't like that boy then he's not invited."

"Thank you, Grampy." Anne smiled brightly. "I'm not some hoe for you to pimp out so that people will like you at work, Popsicle."

"Anne!" Grammy and Clarice exclaimed.

"Or, I'll tell you what, Popsicle." Anne said swallowing and looking as impish as possible. "You let me go to the school I want and I'll invite Carl to my birthday party, I'll go to his spring break party and his year end bar-be-q."

Anne's offer was more than tempting; And if it had not involved her throwing her life away on some performing arts school, Henry might have considered it.

Being on speaking terms with the women in your life is over-rated when you've got a wonderful sofa in your den, Henry thought as Clarice tossed the spare linens on the floor of his office and walked away without so much of a "Sleep tight."

Anne was still fuming during lunch at school the next day. When she thought about the row she had with her father the night before it made her blood bubble. She and Keiera were sitting alone at their table in the cafeteria waiting for the rest of their posse to arrive and Keiera was slowly but surely bringing Anne's blood pressure to normal.

"I bet if he knew what Carl was really like, he'd march right into Carl's Dad's office and punch him square in the nose." Keiera said softly, rubbing Anne's back.


	5. Chapter 5

Lecter's car crept silently down the quaint little suburban street in the dark of the early evening. All the houses looked just same here, he observed; Perfect for hiding in plain sight. He came to a stop just past the middle house on the block. He spread a map on the seat beside him in case he was questioned about his parking on a street he had no business being on. Playing the confused old man was a ruse he'd perfected since coming to Rode Island. He popped the top of his sport bottle and took a swig of the water inside; crisp, sparking and clean.

"_A fitting description,_" he thought to himself. Hannibal was reminded of young Anne's startling blue eyes once again. They were bold and strong in such a way that held a person against their will. Roughly searching for the answers they required without restraint but when she smiled they rolled gently like the ocean water off the coast luring you to the depths of their cool embrace.

As if the mere thought summoned her, Anne appeared a few houses down. He recognized her school bag from all the mornings he spent watching the entrance to her school and with it she also carried a colorful over night bag. She started and stopped her walk down the path to turn and cast an unknown figured an exasperated glance.

"Come on, Clarice," he whispered hungrily, "show yourself." Lecter hoped beyond hope that he would finally lay eyes on his long-time infatuation. The frustrated look on Anne's face gave nothing away; she could just as easily be suffering the wrath of her demanding father. Henry Danvers was too hard on his clearly very bright daughter if you asked Lecter. Upon further inspection, Agent Danvers' car was nowhere to be found.

Anne would never talk to her grandparents that way…

Lecter's hopes were fading fast but as Anne was just about to cross the street, a petite woman with dark brown hair came jogging after her waving a large envelop overhead. The resemblance was uncanny… and as the woman turned to go back to her house, he saw her face.

"Why hello, Agent Starling…"

"So… about my paper for my dual enrollment class…" Keiera started slowly. She had been dreading this moment for a couple days now but if she was going to hand her paper in on time she had to get started. Most unfortunately, getting started inquired nosing about Anne's mom.

"What about Kei Lime?" Anne asked not looking up. They were lying on the floor of the Caine's rec room an hour later amongst two dozen title-less papers and text books preparing for what was sure to be an all-nighter.

"My paper about women in the government who are shamed but if they were men it wouldn't have been perceived the same…"

"Okay," Anne looked up, "what about it?"

"I want to do my paper on your mom and why she resigned." Keiera said quickly.

Anne rolled her eyes and thumped her down onto her text book.

"I know, I promised you I wouldn't pick your mom when I took the class but my Professor _made_ me choose her." Keiera said apologetically.

"Are you effing serious?" Anne mumbled into the pages of her book. "You _promised_."

"I know!" Keiera whined. "But my professor has a hard on for your mother. And all the other good spies were taken."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"That's a rhetorical question, right?"

"Right."

The real crappy thing was that, Anne trusted Keiera with her life but not with her mother's still tattered reputation. On the other hand, however, Keiera was quick to defend Anne's mother as fiercely as she would her own and she didn't even know the whole story.

"I guess, in a way, I owe you the truth." Anne said reflecting on this. She lifted her head and peeled back the page that had stuck itself to her forehead. "But I really don't want my mom subjected to more scrutiny than she already has. Partly because she doesn't deserve it and, partly because shit rolls down hill and I'm the one who's got to fend off another attempt at having my parents fit me with another tracking node."

"You're in good hands!"

"So everyone and their mom knows about my mom and the Lecter guy and how he got away blah, blah, blah," Anne began rolling her eyes, "and that really haunted my mom. Right around that time, she and my dad had just started hooking up and they were married and pregnant super quickly."

"And then they had their little Banana!" Keiera chimed in gleefully.

"That's me!" Anne laughed before continuing, "So, anyway, despite all my awesomeness permeating their lives my mom was still really scared that Lecter was going to just show up one day out of the blue. She told me that she used to have all of these nightmares that she would come home and find him reading stories to me and feeding me pieces of my babysitter and what not."

"Heinous!"

"Oh my god, I know," Anne groaned, "my mom barely slept as it was and when she did she was plagued by these crazy nightmares. So you can see why she was a total basket case; not sleeping, paranoid that obsessed cannibal s were gonna come after her and take her kid and my dad was a total prick by the way. He would just, like, ignore her and tell her that Lecter was long gone and that there was no way he could hurt her now. Basically he would just say, 'Clarice, stop being crazy. Everything is fine now, darling'."

Anne's impersonation of her father was spot-on as usual.

"Dude, why is your Dad such a tool?" Keiera asked in disbelief.

"No idea," Anne huffed. "Back to the story! So after the whole mess with Lecter getting away a second time, some Bureau dudes tried to blame my mom like they always do. Nevermind that he had freaking drugged her and mutilated her boss! And she fought it as best she could but after a few months my dad was all, 'Clarice just leave and let me take care of you' and not wanting to fight anymore she took an extended leave so she could get married."

"So, your mom let her bosses bully her out of her job?" Keiera asked dumbstruck.

"Noooo," Anne shook her head, "she took leave to get married but she got pregnant right after so she couldn't go back into the field if she wanted to. And then after she had me, she got really depressed and just quit so she could focus on getting better and being a good mom to me. But after their wedding, she was working right up until she gave birth."

It always made Anne a little sad to know that her mom gave up on her dreams to be a stay at home mom for her. She used to imagine her mom as a gun-toting bad-ass who kicked in doors and saved little girls like her from monsters.

"So that incident in Germany didn't even happen while your mom was working with the FBI?"

"Yes and no," Anne answered flipping through her text book. "She wasn't on the Bureau's payroll anymore but she was consulting on a case for them as a favor."

Keiera was furiously scrawling notes on a legal pad when Anne looked back up at her.

"Anything else?"

Keiera was silent for a moment as she finished the rest of her notations. She had all the information that she needed but she was just dying to know the rest of the story.

"Would you tell me about Germany?" she asked timidly. "You were there weren't you?"

"Kei, I was like three when it happened!" Anne said incredulously. "I only really know what other people have told me."

"So then you can tell me!" Keiera urged moving to sit next to her bestie. When Anne hesitated Keiera gave her the sad eyes and a pout for the ages.

Anne hated when Keiera gave her the sad eyes, "Stoooppp! There's nothing to tell!"

"If there was nothing to tell, then why was international news?" Keiera persisted, "It made every world news report throughout the globe! Come oooonnn, Banana-Rama!"

"Okay fine," Anne sighed exhausted from this whole conversation, "we were in Germany with my dad for his job. My mom, the babysitter and I went out for lunch and we stopped at a park after. I wandered away, like I wasn't supposed to, and this old guy who kind of resembled Lecter picked me up and tried to carry me out of the park. My mother freaked all the way out and pulled her firearm and shot the guy like six times, killing him."

"Holy sh—"

"I know, man," Anne cut in, "I know. The media made it her out to be some stark-raving lunatic who was just as obsessed with Lecter as he was with her. And I mean, I totally agree that my mom completely jumped gun, she friggin shot me too after all, but that guy turned out to be some pedophile with two little girls already hand-cuffed in his basement. She did the German police a favor."

"Wow," Keiera nodded in amazement, "nobody tells you that part of the story."

"Yep," Anne replied starting to nod her head too, "it was a total circus but at the end of the day my mom saved me and two other little girls from God only knows what horrors that man would have done to us. And for a while the Bureau did have its panties in a bunch but, she's got like six case files on her desk that she's currently consulting on right now."

"Your mom's a hero, dude."

"Yeah, she is."


End file.
